


Dream Within Dream

by A Huge Snowball (Niveous_and_a_huge_snowball)



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niveous_and_a_huge_snowball/pseuds/A%20Huge%20Snowball
Summary: This is what Trahearne saw in his Wyld Hunt. The Orr green and growing again. The Orr he loves and dedicates for.And he must be somewhere close, for Erris is inside his dream.
Relationships: Trahearne & Player Character (Guild Wars), Trahearne/Female Player Character (Guild Wars)
Kudos: 5





	Dream Within Dream

**Author's Note:**

> My version of the story about how Trahearne survived. One tough fight with the two of them stands side by side. And a lot of magic gibberish.  
> I'm a non-native speaker with very limited vocabulary. Hope the grammars are at least correct.

“We… we did it?”  
It is hard to believe they have prevailed without any further sacrifice. Despite everyone else in the team is still lying on the ground, intoxicated by the overwhelming influence of Mordremoth’s mind, Erris finds the little strength she has left and get up, tries to confirm the situation.  
Defeating Mordremoth is vastly different from the experience with Zhaitan. Erris managed to smite the dragon’s mind with her team from inside, or so it seemed. For any physical form that is still intact, it is difficult to confirm the destruction of its “mind”.  
Especially for the case of Elder Dragons, whose massive magic would be more than enough to sustain their minions to cause trouble for a long time after they perish. The Risens, for example, have been keeping poisoning the land of Orr for over a year since Zhaitan was defeated.  
The moment they beat Mordremoth, Canach and Caithe said the voice inside their heads had gone. They, along with most of the sylvari race, have survived its death. Erris is glad that they did, but she still has doubts. What if the Jungle Dragon is just hiding behind the veil as it hid from most of the sylvaries and the rest of Tyria before?  
Even after Scarlet Briar destroyed Lion’s Arch and sent the shockwave deep down beneath the earth, none of them could have imagined the Jungle Dragon was behind the neurotic sylvari all this time. And then, when the Pact turned their attention from the Crystal Desert to the Heart of Maguuma, they presumed Mordremoth was still in the process of wakening instead of fully awoke. The dragon’s cunning has tricked the world more than once.  
It’s hard to think straight with all the pain and tiredness. Erris’ limbs are like soft and harmless marshmallows, but heavy as stone. She won’t be surprised if her body collapses at any time. But she cannot rest yet. Someone needs her.  
Trahearne is calling. And as always, she will be ready to answer.  
The Marshal remains half trapped in the blighted pod, covered and anchored by lichen, grass, and branches, almost look like they grow from inside of his body. The pod holding him is distinguished from the kind used on Logan, Zojja, and other captured. Not knowing how it works, Erris could not risk just cut him out without taking any precautions. He is almost the size of a Norn now, reminds Erris of what happened to Faolain before she was fully converted to a Mordrem. A bad sign.  
“Commander? I…”  
“I’m here, Marshal.” She walks towards him as fast as she could to hear his words clearly, and has to take a brief stop to catch her breath in the process, ” What do you need?“  
“My sword...Caladbolg...is nearby. ”His voice is fainted, yet firm, ”It was a gift from the Pale Tree. I am connected...bonded to it. Only its power can free me from this. Please, bring it here.”  
The way he talks makes Erris unease. Not only because he is… larger than usual, also because his sight wanders without focus. The Trahearne she knows always looks at the people he is talking to, it is deeply rooted in his etiquette. This isn’t like him.  
The firstborn is special to sylvaries. Maybe they are special to Mordremoth, too. From Erris’ perspective, the dragon put much more resources on Trahearne and Faolain. As the Mordrem Faolain said, the Jungle Dragon may have let Erris uproot Logan and Zojja, but it would do everything to stop her from taking back Trahearne.  
Keeping the worries to herself, Erris searches the tangled ground and finds the broken Caladbolg a few feet away from where Trahearne is held. The elegant great sword has lost its top half blade, but there are still butterflies circling the vine-shape hilt, almost like the sword is telling it is alive.  
“I have the sword, Marshal.”  
She brings Caladbolg to him. There is a short time that Trahearne looks relieved and gains some strength back. Erris almost thought that he asked for Caladbolg because he knows a way to undo some of the damage Mordremoth has caused. Something to do with the sword, the Pale Tree, or other sylvari stuff.  
She can’t be more wrong.  
“Quickly now: use it...on me. Kill me, Commander. Before it’s too late.”  
“What? No!”  
She yells out, can’t believe what she heard, ”Mordremoth is dead! We destroyed its mind from the inside!”  
“But I still hear its voice. Mordremoth is alive. One last hateful vestige...a terrible seed planted deep in my mind. You must kill me. Before that seed grows...before Mordremoth reclaims what it has lost.”  
His voice is full of resolve, hiding the torture and struggle under his normal flat tone. And his arms, the only parts of his body that are still free from dragon’s prison, keep shaking and twitching, trying to escape his control.  
No. This simply cannot be. How can he talk about his own death so calmly like it’s someone else’s problem? How can he ask none other than Erris to do such a thing? How can he just… give up? If the fight has not over yet, then they should just keep fighting. She will keep fighting. No matter what it takes.  
“Please, Erris. What’s left of me cannot survive on its own. Strike now, or—”  
Before he can finish the sentence that sounds almost like a plead, the shadows and mists surround them gather, coalesce, then swiftly form into a dark shape. A shape hovering above the blighted pod that’s holding Trahearne, wrap them inside with its intangible but compelling existence.  
It speaks. Through Trahearne’s voice, with the arrogance that can only belong to an Elder Dragon.  
“I am this world. I am everything. You have no hope to destroy me. Run while you can.”  
“You are nothing!”  
With rage rushes in her vein, Erris strikes her fist with all her might as if it will be her last, right into the part of the shadow which she assumes is Mordremoth’s face.  
She completely forgot it is Trahearne who would take the blow. Her punch penetrates the dragon’s silhouette without resistance, and lands on Pact Marshal’s head heavily, knocks him out right away.  
“No- Trahearne, I am so sorry!”  
Erris tries to apologize, but neither Trahearne nor Mordremoth have any response. She must have hit him-them hard. Or could it be the dragon use it as an opportunity to disguise itself again?  
As if it is not bad enough, Canach manages to get back on his feet just in time to see what she did, and bursts into laughter in a way Erris didn’t know he is capable of.  
“Thank you, Commander. You just did two things I have always wanted to in only one punch. I knew I like you for some reason, apart from your skeleton foot-key.” He smirks and walks to her, then turns to his serious look when starts observing the situation. ”But the question is, now what?”  
Now what? They can’t hope to beat Mordremoth by destroying his physical form. Trahearne was right when he said so. With the few troops the Pact has left and limited support from outside, there is no way they can burn down Maguuma Jungle faster than the dragon regrows. They weren’t ready to fight the force of nature. Somehow Mordremoth becomes the vast jungle itself, while other dragons known to the world are just dragons.  
“We must find a way to enter Mordremoth’s mind again. That’s the only place we can truly put an end to this.”  
“Or…there is another choice, as Trahearne proposed.” Canach says in an emotionless tongue, “Not that I like the option, but still, shouldn’t we consider it?”  
“Don’t think so. “  
Erris declines immediately, then pauses to make sure she isn’t speaking out of the impulse to save the Marshal at all cost, but out of rationality. After all, she is still furious at Mordremoth’s despicable move of holding those dear to her as hostages. First Eir, Logan and Zojja, now Trahearne.  
“Say Mordremoth is hiding inside the Marshal now. We kill them, what is there to prevent it from moving on to next sylvari or even human, charr and asura? Plenty of Pact soldiers are still being held as its prisoners.”  
“Nicely put, Commander.” Canach nods his head quickly, ”For once, I am glad someone else is making the call. The dragon’s power has affected me, deeply. In fear of its corruption, maybe I will make a haste decision, one that I am going to regret later. So, any idea to get through the dragon’s grassy skull? I am back in fighting shape now that its voice has gone.”  
“I… think I actually have an approach.”  
The thought wasn’t there a few minutes ago. It’s not a whisper, not even shaped in words. It just comes to her, knowing that Caladbolg can bring her mind into Dream of Dreams, where Mordremoth uses to influence all the sylvaries. And in there, she can fight it.  
Though not a sylvari, Erris had a few experiences before. She accompanied Trahearne as he walked in the prophecy of forming the Pact. She chased Caithe using the memory seeds, following the path of her Dream.  
Erris may never be able to forgive Caithe and the Pale Tree, for they have been knowing the truth all this time, but never took any effort to prevent the worst. Even if they don’t trust Erris and other leaders, they should have at least warned Trahearne, so that the Pact won’t send so many sylvaries into Mordremoth’s grasp, along with its entire fleet.  
Concealing the fact that sylvaries were created as Mordremoth’s minions will not help them cope with the world better. No one is going to believe if the sylvaris claim knowing nothing about it, if people would listen to anything they try to say at all.  
There was a short time, Erris suspected Trahearne knew it, too. With him being the first of the Pale Tree’s beloved Firstborn, and Caithe’s only friend, it seems natural.  
But soon, she dismissed the idea. Trahearne never hides anything from her. He seeks to consult his second-in-command each time he feels uncertain, including the details of strategies, how accurate the intel is, or if he is truly capable of leading an army against Zhaitan.  
Erris always said he should have more faith in himself. And although she hasn’t spent much time with Trahearne recently, Erris is confident that she can sense it if there’s anything bothers him other than the imminent threat of the Jungle Dragon’s waking.  
Now thinks of it, she blames herself for not being there when he needed supports. First, she was busy stopping Scarlet Brair’s plan and failed miserably before she knew her true purpose. Then Caithe stoled Glint’s egg, she had to chase her across half of the Maguuma area. She even missed the Pact fleet’s departure because of it.  
Before the world summit, Trahearne made an appointment with her to discuss their next move, and they never had another decent chance to talk to each other ever since. So many problems to solve, gory battles one after another. They barely had enough time to deal with what’s at hand, left alone plan for the future.  
Caladbolg’s orange glow glistens gently in Erris’s hands as she tries to clear her head of all the thoughts. Now is not the time to blame or regret. She must focus on defeating Mordremoth. What she needs is making some arrangements in case things go astray. The war against Elder Dragons will go on with or without her. It has to.  
Before she finishes the thinking, Marjory and Caithe seems to have recovered as well. The first thing Marjory does is checking the surrounding environment, while Caithe seems still in the shock of Mordremoth’s death. Rytlock is in a coma, so is Braham. Except the norn is weeping in his dream- something he never does while awake, and it worries Erris that he may breakdown completely someday if he keeps pretending he can handle Eir’s death by himself.  
Then the necromancer frowns at Erris. “I thought we’d be back at Pact Base Camp. Something’s wrong, boss?”  
“You could say that. Mordremoth doesn’t let go easily. I need to confront the dragon’s mind by entering Dream of Dreams one more time.”  
“The Dream of sylvaries? “ She looks surprised, measures the words, “Well, I can see how it make sense since Mordremoth loves to use its puppets to do the dirty works. I’m going with you this time, boss. Most of the team need more rest, and Canach may be affected again if he goes near Mordremoth.”  
“We are stronger than that, and we have proved ourselves by making our way here.” Caithe says in disapproval, “I can fight the dragon as good as any of you, maybe better, thanks to my participation in the defiance to the Crystal Dragon in the past. And I want to fight Mordremoth. It is for the future of all sylvaries. It is our responsibility, my responsibility.”  
“Canach proved himself. You? Not even close. You wish your treachery can be forgiven easily, that you can win back our trust by a few battles. Too bad for you. As long as you are still here, I will have my eyes on your every move, whatever boss’s opinion is.”  
“I would say we hold our arguements until dealt with the dragon. And I appreciate your offers, both of you, but I need to do this alone. Calagbolg can only bring me into the Dream, that’s what it told me.”  
“Trahearne’s sword speaks to you? Are you sure, boss?”  
Marjory says it in a non-offensive way as always. This is mere to show she has concerns. She never judges people lightly, so her hostile attitude towards Caithe says a lot. Erris knows how strange she must sound, too. But she trusts Caladbolg for some reason. Maybe because sylvari is generally a race that knows not how to tell lies, or perhaps because she trusts Trahearne.  
“Yes, I am sure. Marjory, take good care of everyone. Water, heat-make sure they have all they need. Canach, I will need you to guard me here while my mind is away. Give it two hours, wait until before the sunset. If the time is up and things don’t seem to work out-”  
Erris pauses again, try to find a way to put what she has to say easier, if it is even possible. She wishes she doesn’t have to put a burden like this on someone else’s shoulder, especially someone like Canach and Marjory, they have suffered enough. It’s not about whether they can or can’t handle the weight, which Erris is sure they can, the point is they shouldn’t be put into such a position. No one should be.  
The Canach she saw in Caithe’s memory was young, innocent, and care-free, there weren’t any spikes or scars on the smooth bark of his face, the pointy thorns on his head were broad, soft leaves. The things he’s been through has changed him so much. And Marjory, she is more silent than usually after she lost her elder sister. She refuses to talk about it, not even with Kasmeer. Having the experience of losing Sieran, Erris can understand of what she’s been through in a way.  
Before she could continue, Canach squeezes his face into a mocking expression so hard that those said spikes start shaking. He must have felt Erris is hesitating for some reason.  
“Are you suggesting that, I should be so lucky to have the chance of putting our dear Firstborn out of his misery, Commander?”  
“Not only. Cut him down from the blighting tree first. Then kill us both, for we would have been lost to the dragon. Burn the bodies to ash. Search for the dragon’s next target. Tell General Soulkeeper she will officially be in charge upon the decease of Trahearne and I. And inform Steward Gixx the Priory needs-”  
“I am stopping you right there, Erris. While grateful for your unconditional trust, you need to know I have faith in you as well. More precisely, in your safe return. Do not say it as if you are wasting your life on an impossible task. So, off you go now. Better not keep a dragon waiting. For as far as I know, they are all very grumpy.”  
“Exactly what I want to say, boss. Only not so wordy. Canach talks too much for his own good.” Marjory adds, “Don’t worry about us. Just do everything you can to win. You are good at this. Make the dragon pay, for Eir, and… for Belinda.”  
Lost for words, Erris nods her head with all her strength. The support from her friends is very different from the feeling she had when fighting with the Pact. Sure, the soldiers respect her, even admire her, but she has to be the one in the leading position, giving commands, fulfilling her duties, etc. While with her companions, however, she can do what she needs to, and trust them to have her back.  
She sits on a rough tree chunk next to Trahearne, trying not to look at him, because it will let all sorts of concerns occupy her mind. She holds Caladbolg tight in her arms, waits for the sword to wield its magic. As she closes her eyes, dazzling lights and strands of shadows start to dance and shift fast in her vision, but only for a brief moment. Then everything stops in a sudden, she landed on the ground of somewhere.  
When Erris opens her eye, the landscape she sees is hugely different from what she expected. She thought she was going to visit the thorns-bind platform floating above the void of Mordremoth’s magic again, like what she encountered before in the Jungle Dragon’s mind. But somehow, now she finds herself among an abandoned city’s ruin, with green taken the place of its original dweller.  
There are no animals within Erris’ sight, but she can hear enchanting chirps, along with the soothing sound of flowing water. Parts of collapsed towers and broken walls spread all around, pile up on each other. Wildflowers and saplings stretch their sprouts from the gaps of what’s left of these giant structures, quiver as her steps stir the calm air.  
The grand dome hovers loftily above her is made of crystal-clear glass, still perfectly transparent for her to see thick clouds drooping from the dark sky. It shattered a long time ago, the once sharp edges have been rounded by the wind and sun. Newborn vine plants climb up from the adjacent cliff, covers the blank space of the dome with its curved twig and leaves, forming a new pattern above the original gilded frame.  
Even from what little has survived the time, Erris can easily imagine how majesty the city must be in its better days.  
Somehow, this place feels familiar to her. The smooth lines in its architectural style, and the coarse texture of those materials keep remind her of something, or some place. Has she ever been here? She swears she saw something like that endless stairs before…  
Like the gateway leading to Arah.  
Suddenly, it all makes sense. Erris did not enter Mordremoth’s mind. Instead, Caladbolg brought her into Trahearne’s. That is why she ends up in Orr. And for the same reason, she did not recognize it at once. Because this version of Orr is nothing like the cursed wasteland she knows, the one full of death and horror. This is what Trahearne saw in his Wyld Hunt. The Orr green and growing again. The Orr he loves and dedicates for.  
And he must be somewhere close, for Erris is inside his dream.

\-------------------TBC------------------

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the part when Erris punches them. Sorry, Trahearne.


End file.
